Political Appointment
by JoeMerl
Summary: Kingsley Shacklebolt appoints a new liaison between the Ministry and the Muggle Prime Minister. His choice isn't quite what the Prime Minister expected. One-shot.


**Author's Notes:** I've been in a _Harry Potter_ mood, so here's an old idea I decided to finally write down. I hope that everybody is reasonable in character.

* * *

"I must say, this is quite the disappointment," the Prime Minister quipped, taking his seat behind his desk. "You wizards finally pick a Minister I _like,_ and then tell me that this will probably be our last meeting."

Shacklebolt allowed a hint of a smile. "Send me an owl and I'll try to stop by. But I have a busy workload laid out for the foreseeable future. This liaison will make it far easier to between our two governments."

The Prime Minister's expression turned sour. "I'm still not sure if I like this plan," he muttered, tapping his fingers on the desk. "It's been nearly a year since I've had to deal with a blasted magical politician. Other matters aside, I rather enjoyed the break."

"Well, I think you'll find this liaison more palatable than Fudge or Scrimgeour," Shacklebolt said. "And I expect him to take to his duties with true dedication and passion."

The Prime Minister gave him a look. "I'm sensing a ' _but_ ' coming."

One thing that the Prime Minister liked about Shacklebolt was that he wasn't evasive; he had patiently explained a great many things about the magical world to him in the past two years, and unlike most of the other wizards whom the Prime Minister had met, didn't act patronizing about it. Now, however, he seemed reluctant to talk.

"I must admit, this candidate may not have the greatest sense of... _professionalism_ at times. Nor is he necessarily informed about the ins and outs of governance."

"So you're sending me some sort of quack, are you?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Shacklebolt said. "Honestly, I consider him a personal friend. But I won't deny that he got this position largely for political reasons."

The Prime Minister didn't like the sound of that. Political appointments were to blame for some of his least favorite cabinet members, as well as that stomach ulcer that kept bothering him.

Just then, the froglike man in the oil painting coughed. "To the Minister of Magic. The new Liaison to the Prime Minister of Muggles requests to know if you are ready for him. Please respond."

Shacklebolt turned to his counterpart. "If you're ready?"

The Prime Minister waved his hand. "Yes, I suppose."

The fireplace blazed to life, and as usual, the Prime Minister could make out a spinning figure in the emerald-green flames. The man stumbled out and would have tripped, had he not grabbed onto Shacklebolt's shoulder for support.

" _Oh!_ Pardon me," he said, straightening up with a nervous laugh. "Nearly got out a grate early, would have ruined my whole entrance—ah, so this is it, then?" he said, gazing around the office. "10 Downward Street? I've read all about it, it's quite as nice as I expected—"

" _Downing,_ " the Prime Minister murmured, giving the newcomer a skeptical look.

Whatever the Prime Minister had been expecting, the new wizard liaison did not match it; he was neither as impressive as Shacklebolt or Scrimgeour nor quite as odd-looking as Fudge with his green bowler hat. He was tall and thin, his little remaining hair bright orange tinged with gray. He wore glasses and a dark robe that looked especially dusty from his time in the fireplace. He was also grinning like a child in a toy store, which was certainly an odd contrast to most of the politicians whom the Prime Minister had worked with over the years.

"Prime Minister, may I introduce you to Arthur Weasley?" The Prime Minister rose to his feet, extending his hand. "Arthur, this is—"

"Yes, yes, I know all about you!" Weasley said; he grabbed the Prime Minister's hand with both of his, shaking it so emphatically that it made his glasses wobble. "I've been doing a lot of research for this job, spent the last three days reading every Muggle newspaper I could find—"

"Um—quite," the Prime Minister said, taking back his hand and unsure how else to respond.

"Arthur here has been a stalwart supporter of Muggle rights laws for years," Shacklebolt said. "He is also an expert in all manner of Muggle artifacts."

"Well, not all. I still haven't figured out how airplanes stay up," Weasley said, with a nervous laugh. "You wouldn't happen to know, would you? One of those newspapers mentioned that you use one to get around sometimes?"

"I'm...not really familiar with the mechanics."

"Arthur is _very_ excited to get started on this job," Shacklebolt said, with only the slightest hint of snark.

" _Very_ excited," Weasley agreed. "I can't tell you how _fascinated_ I've always been with Muggle culture. Why, just last night I was telling my family—oh, would you like to see my family?"

"Pardon?"

Weasley reached into an inner pocket of his robe and produced an envelope filled with photographs. Before the Prime Minister knew what was happening, Weasley had come around to his side of the desk and was flipping through them one by one.

"This is my lovely wife, Molly..." The Prime Minister was taken slightly aback as the woman in the picture waved to him. "And here are my two eldest, Bill and Charlie—this was on Bill's wedding day, Charlie was the best man—and my third son, Percy. We took this one just a few days ago, actually—and the twins, Fred and George." His expression softened a bit. "We, uh...lost Fred recently. In the last battle."

"Oh, um—I'm sorry to hear that," the Prime Minister said gruffly.

"Yes, well..." He reluctantly turned to the last picture. "Oh, and these are my youngest, Ron and Ginny—the redheads, obviously. Those other two aren't mine, technically, but they're very close family friends, and—"

"Now, now, Arthur," Shacklebolt chuckled, finally coming to the Prime Minister's rescue. "Let's no overtax the poor man's memory."

"Oh! Sorry, sorry," Weasley said, returning the photos to his inner pocket. "I'm just blathering on here, aren't I? I just can't _tell_ you how excited I am to finally meet you! I'm really looking forward to helping bridge the gap between our communities. We really have so much to teach each other, you know."

"Er," the Prime Minister said simply.

Shacklebolt seemed faintly amused by his counterpart's reaction. He turned to Weasley. "Thank you for coming, Arthur. May I have a few moments alone with the Prime Minister before meeting you back at the office?"

"Yes, yes, of course." He smiled at the Prime Minister again. "A pleasure to meet you, of course, and I'll see you again soon. Or maybe I'll just call you up," he said, picking up the Prime Minister's phone with a little laugh. "I've used one of these things before, so I could if you want."

"I'll...make a note of that."

Weasley was now gazing at the phone with confusion. "What are these buttons for? The one I used had a little wheel that you turned, like—"

"Arthur?" said Shacklebolt.

"Yes? Oh—right! Sorry."

He gave a curt nod to the Prime Minister, turned and, with a toss of Floo powder, vanished into the fireplace.

"Well," said the Prime Minister once he was gone, "he certainly seemed... _enthusiastic._ "

"That's what I meant about this being a political appointment," Shacklebolt said, with a quirk of one eyebrow. "This is his dream job, and I could hardly deny it to someone as prominent as him."

The Prime Minister gave him a look. "He's a person of some import to you wizards, then?"

"Oh, very important. He's the patriarch of a _very_ powerful family, now. All of his children were involved in the fight against the Death Eaters, and they're all extremely popular with the wizard population at large. His wife actually killed Voldemort's second-in command. And I'm not if you noticed, as quickly as Arthur was flipping through those photos, but one of those 'close family friends' he mentioned was none other than Harry Potter."

The Prime Minister looked up. "You mean that boy who killed—"

"Lord Voldemort himself, yes. With some help from Arthur's youngest son and their other 'close family friend.' And if my sources are correct, they may very well both be joining Arthur's family through marriage in the next couple of years. It would be political suicide not to keep the Weasleys happy," he said, with an ironic smile.

"But enough of all that. What do you think of Arthur, on the whole?"

The Prime Minister thought for a moment. "...Well, I like him better than Fudge."

"High praise, that."


End file.
